


Magic Man (at the End of the World)

by chibixkadaj



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Aliens, Alternate History, Alternate Universe - Doctor Who Fusion, Ancient History, Doctor Who References, End of the World, M/M, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-06-27 22:08:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19798759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibixkadaj/pseuds/chibixkadaj
Summary: “You’re really...something, aren’t you?" Taeyong pauses and taps his finger to his lips. The words are right on the tip of his tongue. “Ah. A magic man.”--On the edge of the end of the world Taeyong and Yuta spend their last day together recounting the timelines they've traveled.





	Magic Man (at the End of the World)

“We’ve dreamed about this day before but I never thought it would come so soon.”

“Dreamed? More like a nightmare.”

At the edge of their vision, at the end of the world, the ground has started to crumble. Long cracks splitting open from the ocean floor, severing apart rainforests and desserts. On the verge of implosion, Taeyong and Yuta sit, hand in hand, and watch in wait of their doomed fate. 

Their hold switches from palms pressed flush to fingers entangled--Taeyong’s pinky latched to Yuta’s forefinger. Behind them is a bright blue box, the one that brought them twenty-five lifetimes worth of adventures. 

“I could use it now?” Yuta offers with half a smile, halfheartedly. “We could go elsewhere, we don’t have to stay.”

“But Yuta…” Big, bright eyes have been fixed on the oncoming destruction for so long and yet Taeyong still has trouble tearing his eyes away from it. 

So Yuta tugs at him, draws his attention elsewhere--onto him. “Hey… Did you hear me?”

“I did,” Taeyong tries to match that smile that’s always been infinitely brighter than his own, even when Yuta’s only quirked at the corners of his lips. “But...I don’t think we should.”

It doesn’t deflate him in the way Yuta was preparing. Deep down he knew this would be the answer. It always is. But he tries over and over again all the same because he knows that some part of Taeyong wants it too; wants to run away. He’s just too selfless to give in. 

“The timelines converge here. No matter how much running we do we’ll always be brought back to this point. I don’t think I’d be able to get over that.” 

And it’s our fault? lingers somewhere between them; a shared thought stemming from Taeyong’s uncertainty that neither owns up to because it’s too hard to bear. In truth, it’s not exactly because of them. They didn’t make the Guardianship Laws that governed the state of the world, nor were they the ones who crosswired realities to land on this end. 

It’s just… had Yuta let Taeyong serve as sacrifice when the Gods requested, at least another thousand years would have been tacked on to the timeline. That’s what Taeyong believes, anyway. But Yuta hadn’t then, couldn’t then and he selfishly didn’t regret it now. Not with Taeyong at his side; who has been as his side across so many millennia. 

Taeyong turns and looks at Yuta like he had that first time--

1.

Back in the bathhouse of an old Korean palace, Taeyong was no royal but his looks could launch ships had dear Helen of Troy not taken the title first. He works tirelessly attending to the princesses as chef, stylist, masseur and sometimes therapist.

“Did you hear of the newcomer?” The youngest, Yeri, asks her three sisters. “They say he’s more handsome than anyone in the universe.” 

Seungwan giggles. “He cannot be more handsome than our own Jung Yoonoh.” 

Taeyong has only seen Yoonoh once but from all he’s heard he’s rather inclined to agree. 

“He is, he is!” Yeri protests, voice pitching hire with each insistence.

“Oh?” The eldest in the room, Seulgi, raises a well trimmed brow. “Have you see him, Yeri-ah?”

“M-me? No, of course not sister.” Her shoulders rise in defense and fold over herself for protection. “We’re not allowed to leave the palace grounds. Of course I haven’t seen him.”

But when only Taeyong remains in the room she turns to him, eagerness and horror etched on her face. “Don’t tell,” she whispers. “But I snuck out and I _saw_ him.”

“Yeah?” Taeyong plays the part of accomplice and leans in, though the more he learns the more precarious his position in the palace becomes. 

“Yeah! And he is more handsome than Yoonoh. Or...well,” She taps her finger to her bottom lip and hums for half a second. “Yoonoh is the most handsome man in our kingdom but the newcomer is different. He’s exciting to look at, his features stand out in their own way and when he smiled at me I thought my heart would explode out of my chest.”

“You must have been interacting with him for a while then.”

“Not a while!” She corrects with a squeak in her voice. “Just...enough. I went out to pick berries and he caught me staring. That’s when he smiled. I didn’t stay after that and he didn’t follow.”

“Well…I’m happy you were able to see him yourself, and happier still that he didn’t pursue you after. Must’ve been hard for him, seeing how beautiful you are.”

“Oh stop!” Yeri erupts into giggles, splashing Taeyong with the force of both palms. He flinches, raising his right arm to shield as much of his robes as he possibly can. But the force of his twisting sloshes the lavender water in the shallow bowl he has tucked into his left side and in no time he is both wet and scented. 

“Aish…” He groans, barely audible over Yeri’s laughter. She rises to her feet, long dark hair falling over her bare breasts, and walks to the edge where Taeyong is perched (for he cannot enter the bath himself, though the princesses let him dip his feet in) to take the large bowl from him. He nods in thanks and uses his now free hands to hoist back onto his feet. 

As she wraps herself into the towel he’s holding for her she glances back and smiles sweetly. “Thank you for listening, Taeyonggie. I...know I shouldn’t be doing this. But it’s fun and I’m happy I can talk to someone about it. You know my sisters would kill me if they knew.”

“I know. And that’s why they won’t find out,” Taeyong nods and steps away. “Your secrets are safe with me.”

That night, alone in the chambers adjacent to those of the princesses, close enough that he can hear their giggling, Taeyong plays through Yeri’s tellings over and over again. Tall, amber hair, blindingly bright smile with deep eyes that crease with his happiness. She claimed to only see him for a brief amount of time but the details she painted were all over his mind. Handsomer than Yoonoh… Taeyong, who has been crushing on Yoonoh since the nobleman hit his teenage years and their eyes met once, couldn’t imagine it. How nice it must be, he thinks, to be able to explore someone else’s beauty.

How sad, he laments, that that will never be his fate. 

The next morning he adjusts his bag over his shoulder and makes a mental list of fruits, sweets, and perfumes that the sisters want or need for the festival. The Decidial ceremony and celebration is in a month’s time and the palace needed items for preparation. The rest of the requests were merely splendors each girl wanted that Taeyong certainly wouldn’t refuse; after all, pears were the ripest and most delicious this time of the year (Taeyong would maybe slip a few into his bag for himself, too).

He collects honeysuckle and roses for Seulgi, citrus and spice for Yeri, and cherries for Seungwan, all in color specific bottles that he feels confident the women will love. He smells of a strange mix of everything he’s bought (and much more that he has tested on his skin) but it seems not to bother passersbys even as they stop and turn their heads to sniff and stare. He’s not not used to this. He looks royal adjacent after all, with jewels in his ears and hair kept nicely out of his face. Men haven’t been allowed into status in centuries and they know as well as he does what role he serves in the palace. Still, sometimes he can’t help but tug his hood higher over his head to hide some of the details that make him stand out. 

Today is one of those days.

But it makes it harder to see people as they slide next to him at the merchant stalls. He tries to stay timid and careful, glancing as far as his gaze will go before he reaches for produce. He relies on his other senses to tell him when there’s a body maybe inches from his own and they fail him instantly when he reached for a pear in time for a stranger’s hand to fall right on top of it.

“Oh!” Taeyong exclaims, drawing his hand back quickly before turning to bow. 

The other laughs. “This is quite the apology you’re making when I’m the one who touched you.”

“I, uh, I guess?” Taeyong stammers, straightening his back as gripping loosely on the edge of his hood to keep it in place when he locks eyes with-- “Oh…”

Amber hair, a bright smile, eyes that you could lose yourself in (Yeri’s words, not his own!)...could it be?

Taeyong let his gaze trail down the length of the man’s body where he noted strange fabric pants sticking out from an otherwise standard looking robe. The rich, dark blue--or maybe it’s black? Taeyong would need to look closer to tell--accented with thin lines of white clash hard with the varying browns wrapped around his body and the glimpses of orange hair painted a picture of a man that had Taeyong struggling to stifle his giggles over. 

“What?” The stranger asks, grin only widening when Taeyong’s hood falls from him and exposes his shocked face. “Do you speak? Or is--oh!” He turns suddenly, fiddling with something beneath is robe and then tapping at his inner left ear. “No no…” Taeyong hears him mumble. “It’s working. We’re fine… Okay. It’s not on my end. Good. Good...” 

“Good?” Taeyong finally says, pushing onto his toes as he peers around to catch the stranger’s face.

“Yes, good!” Another grin that could knock Taeyong right off his feet. Okay, the rumors are true. He is handsomer than Yoonoh. 

Taeyong blinks and suddenly some fruit is being handed his way. 

“You were going for these right? Here,” Three are placed into Taeyong’s palms. “Are they good? I was told that pears are what I should indulge in here and you seem to know what looks the best. Will you help me?”

So Taeyong, still stunned, helps the mystery man select four pears of his own and gawks as he pays for everything they’ve both selected. “You didn’t have to. I have more than enough!”

The other shakes his head. “You helped me, it’s the least I can do. And I’m about to ask another favor so we’ll be even.”

Taeyong tries not to trip as he’s lead from the market to a grove covered by the drooping branches of old yet sturdy trees. He glances back, thinking how he didn’t need to come here and yet… 

Well it’s fine. He’s finished most of his errands anyway. 

“I don’t eat fruit very often, I’m excited.” The stranger chirps as Taeyong takes a seat and starts to draw his knife around the skin to peel. 

“They’re only pears,” Taeyong teases, drawing his knife slowly around the skin. 

“Yes. But I’ve never had Korean pears before and I get to eat them now. That’s exciting!”

“You’re not from here,” Taeyong states as fact rather than asking the question. It’s rather obvious, after all. His dress is like nothing Taeyong has ever seen before and he’s familiar with many high end trends in fashion. And when he speaks, while it is in Taeyong’s tongue, it carries such a different tone to it that he can’t recognize. It’s...intriguing. Taeyong leans in to hear more.

“No, I’m not. You’re perceptive, huh?”

“It’s not hard. But...yes. Being more or less holed up in a palace builds that skill I guess.” Whether it’s for self-protection or to avoid boredom but Taeyong doesn’t need to share that. He’s actually, probably, already shared too much. His cheeks flush. 

“Palace?” Ginger brows raise. “Are you a prince?”

“No! No,” Taeyong laughs and shakes his head. “Another sign you’re new here you know. Our Kingdom is a matriarchy.”

“Ah, oh right! They do not keep males in the bloodline. I learned this, how could I have forgotten.” He flashes Taeyong that smile, then adds, “Maybe your beauty has just made me forgetful.” 

“My--... I’m sorry?” If he wasn’t red before, Taeyong surely looks like an apple now. Before the stranger can reply Taeyong spares himself any more embarrassment by shoving a piece of pear between his lips. Ginger brows raise and dark eyes go wide. Then, slowly, he _crunches_ down with his teeth and lets the pear’s sweetness run over his tongue. His eyes are still wide but for a whole different reason now. As he raises a hand to cover his mouth he speaks, “This is delicious.” 

Taeyong hums around his own bite of fruit and nods, finishing his slicing and wrapping each piece into a cloth for the stranger to take away conveniently. 

“What’s your name?”

Taeyong blinks back up. 

“Mine is Yuta. Nakamoto Yuta. A very foreign name for a very foreign man, don’t you think? But at least I’m consistent in that.”

“So, what’s yours?”

“Lee Taeyong,” He finally relents then adds with a laugh, “Nothing special. Especially not compared to you.”

“How can you say that? It’s a nice name. You’re a nice man. More consistencies!” 

“You seem to like consistencies, huh?”

“I do,” Yuta beams. “There’s not much in life that can stay the same but if we keep things consistent then at least there’s a little bit of comfort no matter where we go. That’s what I like to think anyway. And I travel a lot so it helps.”

“Yeah? That must be nice.”

“Do you want to travel, Lee Taeyong?” 

“Maybe. I mean, coming to the market is as far as I get away from the palace and sometimes I think I’d like to go further but...Maybe it’s best I don’t.”

Something shifts in Yuta’s expression, like he’s calculating words he’s not quite sure he should say. For him, it’s as through every bone in his body can’t fathom the thought of not moving but he’s learned from many years of many adventures that saying such things set people off in ways he doesn’t want to do with Taeyong. He swallows them back and smiles instead. “You know yourself best.”

That reply earns him a shy smile and a nod. “Truly, I guess I do.” 

When silence settles around them Taeyong, with lament and a soft sigh, starts to collect himself and check for all his things.

“Going already?” Yuta asks, jumping to his feet and offering a hand to Taeyong to help him do the same. 

“I must. They’re probably wondering where I am.” 

“Well… Thank you for teaching me the magic of pears.” Yuta is still holding Taeyong’s hand.

Taeyong glances down to look at it, but doesn’t make a move to break it. “My pleasure. If you stick around, stranger, maybe we’ll cross paths once more.” 

“Yuta,” The other corrects, grinning.

“Ah,” Taeyong’s shock melts into an expression of humor and he nods. “Yes, Yuta. You know, we have a festival coming in a fortnight. Maybe you’ll stay around enough to see it?”

“If it means seeing you again, maybe I will.” 

Those words ring in Taeyong’s ears from his trek to the palace then all through the night. What could he mean? If it means seeing you again. But Taeyong is nothing special. And with his only offering having been slicing pears, he really can’t fathom why the man who is prettier than Yoonoh has any interest in seeing him. ’Yuta,’ that smiling correction flashes before him and suddenly he’s smiling too. He smiles a lot actually, every time he gets to thinking about it.

Festival looming, Taeyong is sent on many more tasks outside the palace walls. There are fabrics he needs to fetch, ingredients he must gather, and parcels to deliver. He hasn’t worked so hard in his 25 years on this planet but he’s grateful for the chance at fresh air and new faces. And grateful that, somehow, each and every time his path seems to cross with a familiar ginger head.

“Hello stranger,” He teases, shifting the swatches of fabric all to one arm, and laughs at the nose scrunch smile he receives back.

“Hello,” Yuta greets. “They’re really working you hard, aren't they?”

“To an onlooker maybe, but I get to take my time when I’m at the market so it feels much more refreshing than lingering around the palace waiting for tasks.”

“This is the, hm, fourth time we’ve met now in a little over a week?”

“Is it?” Taeyong tilts his head in thought, glancing up to the sky as though it could give him the answer (though it does give him so many others).

First with the pears.

Second he helped Taeyong collect spilled letters and packages when someone had tripped him in the street.

Third, they ended up selecting silks and satins together.

And now, the fourth, as Taeyong has come to retrieve said cloth.

“I guess you’re right. What an honor it’s been to spend four market trips out with you, Yuta.”

“The pleasure is mine! You’re the one who has been showing me the ropes here.”

“I’m sure if you bat an eyelash at any random passerby they would help you. The whole kingdom probably thinks you’re cute. You should leverage it.”

“Oh? The whole kingdom?” A grin starts to spread over Yuta’s lips. “Do you think I’m cute then, Taeyong?”

“Huh? I-...” Taeyong’s cheeks start to flush the same pink as the material selected for Yeri’s robes and he starts turning away to hide it.

“Oh. Maybe that’s a yes.”

“N-no!” 

“Mhmm,” The sound is drawn out, long and smug and, if Taeyong could indulge himself in the thought, happy sounding. Yuta’s hand catches the edge of Taeyong’s cloak. “Hey. Actually I’m glad we met here. You’ve been showing me so much of these parts I actually wanted to return the favor? Show you something I think you might be interested in.”

Taeyong blinks. Something...here? In this kingdom? It wouldn’t be far fetched especially considering how rarely Taeyong can be out on the grounds. “Sure?” 

“Great!”

Yuta slips his hand into the one that Taeyong still has conveniently freed and starts to lead him down the path away from the stalls and deeper into the lush green woods. 

“Where are you taking me?” Taeyong asks with a laugh, though his tone is tinged in a touch of panic. “Not the most sightly for two near strangers.”

Yuta stops and glances back. He’s still smiling but it’s much softer, with his brows quirked up and hope shining in his eyes. “Do you trust me?”

“Trust you?” Taeyong’s head tilts. “Yeah I… I do?”

“Great,” it’s softer this time, though Yuta’s hold on his hand tightens and he pulls him deep into the thicket. Even as he swipes piles of leaves and tree branches to the side, he keeps their hands pressed together until he’s finished and they’re stepping away from a big, blue...box?

Taeyong lets go before Yuta does. He’s fixated and fascinated and reaches out to touch an edge. It’s smooth like stone but has a ting to it when Taeyong taps with his nails. How… “Strange,” he breaths out.

Yuta laughs. “Want to see something stranger?”

He guides Taeyong inside, into a space that looks no larger than the closest in his bedroom but is much, much bigger on the inside.

“This is insanity,” Taeyong gapes. So fascinated with the bright silver interior and the jewel colors buttons, he doesn’t realize that Yuta has only been looking at him. The bright wonder in his eyes makes him chuckle. Taeyong really was something, wasn’t he? Yuta had taste.

“This is incredible,” Taeyong says after a moment. He finally turns back to Yuta. “I’ve never...not in my wildest dreams or favorite storybooks, have thought up a place like this.”

“Take her in,” Yuta encourages with a nod. “This is like my home. We’ve been through a lot together.”

“You’re really...something, aren’t you? Something more than bright colored hair and strange pants.” Taeyong pauses and taps his finger to his lips. The words are right on the tip of his tongue. “Ah. A magic man.” 

“Something,” Yuta repeats with that sugar sweet smile of his and a laugh to match. “Something like that.”

Taeyong smiles back, gaze falling while he trails a touch over a glimmering console seated in the center of the wide space. “Thank you for showing me this. I never thought I’d be able to leave the palace walls, let alone see something like this. I feel like you’ve given me the life I’ve always wanted in just a few days time.”

“Taeyong,” Yuta steps up, reaches an arm out until his palm is braced against the console and his body hovers over the other’s. “I’m glad. It’s been my pleasure, too, you know? Meeting you and getting to spend this time together.”

“Hah,” The laugh puffs out from quirked lips. He’s mystified and starts to feel bold. “I wish it could last forever.”

“Yeah,” Yuta agrees. “Me too.”

As Taeyong looks back up he can’t help but gasp. Yuta is so close to him. His face is only a handful of inches away and he’s looking not at Taeyong’s eyes, not at first, but his lips. Then, when their gazes meet his brows raise. He’s asking a question with his expression and Taeyong, unthinking, answers with a nod.

Yuta leans in gently and presses their lips together carefully. His head tilts so Taeyong’s doesn’t have to. And Taeyong blinks before melting into it, daring to bring a hand to Yuta’s cheek just to keep them in place.

It’s his first kiss. 

He relishes every second.

“Thank you,” He says again when they finally break apart. “You’re really just...showing me everything I could want. And more.”

Yuta grins.

He thinks about it. He thinks about it a lot. All the way from the rocky path back to the market, then up the smooth marble steps of the palance, between when he’s delivering the goods he’s gathered to when he settles in his room or the night. He keeps thinking about it. Then into the next day… and the one after that.

Yet, despite all the tales they’ve told to one another he doesn’t feel comfortable divulging his interaction with the princesses. He doesn’t want to step on Yeri’s excitement over their locked eyes and knows that the other girls really have no interest in the details of men. Not to mention it’s so much more than a shared pear or a chat at a stall. They’ve actually… Taeyong can’t stop touching his lips.

Actually... a lot hasn’t been comfortable with the princesses these days. Where they usually could talk for hours on end Taeyong now finds himself tending to their immediate needs and being waved off instead. And when he offers to fetch them items from the market he is immediately shot down. The festival is approaching and suddenly Taeyong is no longer needed in the ways he has been for all this time.

He starts to wonder if someone saw him and the stranger. Technically he isn’t supposed to fraternize with many others outside the palace walls. As no more than a servant there are rarely other eyes on him. He wonders if the one time he made a mistake was the one time that was enough to ruin him.

When he walks in on Yeri crying it only becomes worse.

“Wh-what is it?” He asks, immediately dropping to a knee at her side. One hand settled on her slender shoulder, the other runs atop her braided hair. “Yeri what’s wrong?”

“Taeyong,” she turns to look at him with wide, tear glistening eyes, and stares for so long it’s as though she’s trying to take all of him in. Her head falls against his chest, her fingers grip the fabric of his robes, and she sobs harder.

“What is it…? What’s wrong? What can I do to help you?”

She can’t compose herself quickly enough to answer. When her lips finally part to reply, Seulgi happens upon them and immediately chides her sister.

“Aish, compose yourself.” She sighs, collecting Yeri from Taeyong. Seulgi has never been one for many words and Taeyong resigns himself to the mystery the second she steps into the room. As she looks at him, though, her gaze softens sadly too, and he wonders what he could have possibly done. Taeyong’s heart pounds quickly in his chest. Had he broken her heart, and so many palace rules, simply by cutting pears up for a pretty visitor? If it were so easy that would have been the case.

Taeyong is naive.

“I’m sorry,” She whispers, then shuffles her sister into the hall.

Taeyong grows more and more panicked as the days pass. Suddenly he is not allowed out of the palace (they send other servants in his place) and he’s not welcome to join the princesses (they rely on the new maids who have pledged themselves in time for the festival). He’s still given access to the baths, though, and is encouraged to take his time in there though only late nights, once the rest of the place has gone to sleep. 

The festival starts tomorrow and Taeyong wants to enjoy it. 

That morning he wakes with the dawn to get ready. His eyes are lined in kohl and his bangs braided out of his face by the time the princesses wake and prepare for their turn. He’s allowed in their room today, holding heavy silken gowns for the seamstress as she dresses them and helping to style their hair when they’re dressed. Delicate fingers gather all of Yeri’s from her face, Taeyong quietly working as to not set any of them off in the same way he must have two weeks ago, when she whispers something to him.

“I love you, Taeyong.”

He blinks. She says it again, this time raising a hand to cover the one that has paused just over her ear. “I love you so much.”

“I...I love you too? Yeri, I--”

The call of trumpets storms in from the hall, Taeyong is shoved away so that Yeri’s hair can be properly pinned up, and they’re all out the door before he can blink.

Until he is given his leave, Taeyong lingers on the side with the rest of the attendance. The city buzzes with excitement. Merchants are peddling wares, children dance around maypoles newly erected in the city center, lords and ladies and common folk alike mingle. Taeyong catches sight of Yeri in her glistening accessories weave in and out of crowds. He wonders what she’s looking for, then suddenly settles on the stranger. Was Yuta still here? He presses onto his toes as if that will help him see out further, though bright orange hair and a striped pant legs are hard to miss!

“Taeyong!” 

His attention snaps elsewhere, to another palace boy like him--a young boy named Jisung. He smiles and Jisung quickly closes the gap between them and takes Taeyong’s hand. “They’re bringing dessert out,” he says with a wide grin. “C’mon, let’s snag some before the speeches!”

Jisung is new to the palace but in no time Taeyong has come to view him like a brother. The princesses seem to like him too, but more to doll him up when they’re bored than to share secrets like with Taeyong. He lets the younger blond drag him around until they’ve nearly crashed into idle trays of various tarts and filled coronets. Jisung stuffs two into his cheeks and grabs three more. Taeyong is a little more graceful and just takes one dessert in each hand. They smile at each other just as their Queen’s voice calls loud over the city square.

“Let’s hurry,” Taeyong encourages before they’re sprinting back to watch it all first hand.

“Our family and friends, country women and men,” The Queen, ever elegant, speaks slow and steady and somehow quiet despite the way it still carries over the grounds. “We’re always honored to share in a Decidial with you all. As many of you know, this year marks the third half century of our festivals which is momentous. For all this time, upholding our traditions have kept our kingdom thriving and again we have obligations we must meet so that the next fifty years show us the same prosperity.”

There’s a shift throughout the crowd. They all know. With celebration comes sacrifice and at this year’s mark three individuals will be selected. Taeyong hasn’t been alive to see it happen before and he fidgets in his spot. Soft to his core, he doesn’t want to watch people die…

“Three names have been ordained by our Gods themselves. Three people who we will treat with the utmost appreciation in the last hours before their worthy sacrifice. Please, welcome them warmly as I call their names.”

“Kwon Eunji.”

“Park Seunghyun.”

“And…”

What?

The crying...the avoidance...it all makes sense. The princesses knew. They knew and they couldn’t tell Taeyong that his name had been picked last of the bunch.

“Lee Taeyong.”

Jisung looks at him in wide eyed horror. Pink lips part, mouth slung open just enough that pastry crumbs are falling from it. 

And Taeyong? He’s stricken. He’s shaking. He doesn’t move until palace guards have gently placed their hands on his shoulders and started guiding him to the center of the square where the other two sacrifices, a boy and a girl who look just around his age too, stand with just as much uncertainty. He looks like a gem at their sides. The sun glistens off the silver that’s adorned his neck, wrist, fingers, and ears, and slivers in his hair. All eyes are on him. 

He feels hundreds of gazes burn deep into his skin. He squirms, as if that could shake it all from him. Like a shake of his shoulders could fling away the target on his back. How stupid… He’s crying too, and that makes him feel stupider. 

The queen starts to speak again but her voice falls on Taeyong’s deaf ears. Instead his recalls the reel of his unexciting life and plays the memories back like a performance no one else can see. So much time spent with the princesses, wonderful times truly but all spent serving them nonetheless. He didn’t want to feel bitter, but there were so many more things than the palace walls, outdoor bathhouse, and the merchant alleyways that he wanted so desperately to see. 

Taeyong also can’t help letting flashes of orange hair and a bright smile pop into mental view. That man who he hardly knew, who gave him such intriguing memories in no time at all, who got to live a life Taeyong felt for certain he wanted for his own… he felt so jealous. But then came the gratitude, because at least there were presses of lips to lips and light touches that Taeyong could now call his own. Two weeks of freefalling fun. 

Wishing he could say it in person, he breaths out “Thank you,” to no one around him.

The queen opens the floor to the sacrifices and lets them decide who should be first. They spare each other a glance though Taeyong already steps forward before either can set aside their trembling to speak. He’s no martyr. The crowd is cheering for him, admiring his courage and thanking him, but Taeyong just doesn’t want to watch anyone die before his eyes. He doesn’t want to lament the details of his life any longer. 

He doesn’t want to keep thinking of Yuta and wondering why he can’t stop.

Time slows with each step he takes up to the podium. Lilac cushions, a block for his neck to rest on, and a woven basket filled with rose and lily petals greets him; a man in ceremonial garb stands at the side blessing his blade. Taeyong can’t meet anyone's eyes and he wishes his ears could shut off in the same way. The princesses are crying. They’re a ways away from Taeyong’s position on this pedestal but he can still hear them clear as day. Look and apologize, say goodbye, one part of him urges, but another cuts in and questions why? They knew and they kept it from him. Bitter thoughts taste foul on his tongue and as his seconds are counting down, as he kneels on the cushion and is bent forward until his face hovers over perfumed petals, he tries to recall sweeter feelings; go out nicely. 

The crowd is split between restless murmuring and dead silence and Taeyong can weirdly hear all and none of it at the same time. Dark eyes squeeze shut, burying in darkness before he’s submerged in it forever.

For the good of the Kingdom. For the good of the world.

That’s what their prophecies state, so that’s what Taeyong will now fulfil. 

He counts down from five. Five wonderful things he’s experienced up until now:

Five: sharing secrets with the princesses.

Four: biting into fresh fruit at the start of harvest season.

Three: the cakes made by the palace baker.

Two: nights when he got to steal time in the bathhouse himself.

And best of all, sneaking that first kiss behind the walls of a fascinating blue box with a ginger haired man prettier than the most gorgeous boy in the kingdom.

Taeyong smiles at that last one. At least he’d taken that chance when he had it. And when he focuses, he can hear Yuta’s voice again ringing in his head. Sweet but loud, whispering his name over and over again. Taeyong...Taeyong... 

“Taeyong!”

His eyes shoot open and he jolts when a whirring sound whizzes above him. The sword flings through the air behind them and piercing the ground. When he turns, the cleric once at the handle meets Taeyong’s shock with his own horror. He can’t move. 

“Wh-what…”

“Taeyong!” Yuta calls again, climbing up the stairs with great haste. “Let’s go. I’m going to get you out of here.”

“I...what do you mean?”

“C’mon. I’m saving you. But we have a few seconds at most. Do you trust me?” 

Those words bring him pause. The last time, right before Yuta opened his eyes to magical mysteries he’d never even managed before. Plus he’s right. The cleric may be frozen in fear, but the crowd is not. They’re starting to show signs of unrest and uncertainty.

“But Yuta…”

“Do you want to live?” Yuta cuts in, stretching out a hand between them. “It’s your choice. But it’s _your_ choice.”

Ah...Taeyong’s never been given a choice before. He swallows, looks up. Not at the Queen, not at the princesses, not at the people or the other sacrifices. He looks at the sky that has always acted as his comfort and guide and then back to Yuta, who has shown him excitement and fun beyond his imagination--a life actually worth living. Swallowing hard, he takes his hand.

Before Taeyong knows it they’re sprinting through gaps in the large crowd. The chains and jewels on his body chime with each hurried step, and then all at once Yuta’s arms are around his waist and they’re leaping in time with his big blue box that had just appeared before them.

They crash land hard on the inside. The door clicks closed with a loud sound almost like a mother grunting in disapproval. And then there’s quiet, save for the sounds of their mutual heavy breathing.

“Thank you,” Taeyong whispers, repeats like he had the first time he’d stepped inside four blue walls. It isn’t until Yuta holds him close that Taeyong realizes he’s started crying. Trembling, he chokes out, “Thank you.”

x

Taeyong blinks back tears now, staring out into pits of fires that grow with each thing they consume. He’s trying to be strong. Nervous, he keeps fidgeting, hanging his legs over the cliffside they’ve perched on, drawing them back underneath him, stretching them out again. Every so often he glances back to the blue box he’s called home for so long now and feels sorry that she is going with them too.

He startles, Yuta’s hand intercepting him on his third glance back so his fingers can curl around his ear. Taeyong blinks wide eyed over to him, stays this way while Yuta fiddles with the universal translator he, using similar motions, fit Taeyong with on their first adventure and then takes it away. 

Who would’ve thought such a simple action would make everything feel so final? Taeyong chokes on a sob. “We’ve done so much, thanks to that.”

An arm wraps around him and tugs him close as Taeyong chews on his bottom lip, unable to look away despite the rapid beat of his heart in his chest. 

Yuta shakes his head. “You’ve done so much,” he corrects. So many wonderful, amazing things. Yuta’s eyes glisten when he thinks about it--while he’s thinking about it now. All of Taeyong’s accomplishments, all the ways he’s aided Yuta in changing the universe. Even if they couldn’t stop _this_ , now, they could make things better back then. It brings Yuta back to all the reasons he fell in love with him--

2.

“I should’ve known Taeyong. Someone as kind hearted as you can always see the good in everyone. That’s how we met. That’s how you saved these Oods. This is definitely my favorite thing about you. You’re incredible!”

Taeyong blushes under all the praise, trailing past Yuta until his back is to him while the other turns to close the Tardis door and situates himself at her console. Taeyong leans against the wall across from him. His arms fold over his chest like he’s trying to buff himself up, say “I’m not melting from your words” even though it’s so obvious that he is. When Yuta glances over all he has to do is raise a brow calling Taeyong out and the other is crumbling all over again. 

“So where to next?” The ginger calls, flipping a lever that causes the wall around them to shake. Taeyong’s hands shoot out, the pads of his fingers gripping at the side (he used to use his nails but the box zapped him in retaliation. “You always have to be careful with a lady, didn’t the princesses teach you that?” Yuta had teased); one day, Gods willing, he’ll get used to the jarring motion that sends them into space.

But today’s not that day.

“Taeyong?” Yuta pulls his attention back to him and smiles when their eyes meet. “Where do you want to go?”

“Do we have to go somewhere?” Taeyong asks, sliding down until he’s seated on the smooth metal floor. “You’ve taken me everywhere. To the beaches, mountains, on top of a shooting star. We just finished stopping the extinction of an entire race. Can’t we just rest?”

“Rest?”

“Have you never heard the word before?” Taeyong shuffles over towards Yuta on his hands and knees and reaches for the back of his jacket to tug him down. Yuta blinks down, lips parting to question.

“Yes I’m serious,” Taeyong pouts and tugs harder. “Come down here. Sit with me.”

“Okay,” Yuta places his hand on Taeyong’s head first though. He runs his fingers through his hair. Then he sits in the time it takes Taeyong to close his eyes and exhale peacefully, looking back as Yuta crisscrosses his legs beneath him. “We’ll rest. Does it have to be on the floor though?”

Taeyong’s lips split into a grin, “Yes.”

Eventually they shift back to the wall, leaning against it with Taeyong’s knees tucked to his chest and Yuta’s legs straight out in front of him. There’s a whirring sound every so often and Yuta chuckles in response. “I think she’s jealous because she’s still working.”

“Sorry, girl,” Taeyong offers apologetically, patting the floor. “You can rest soon too, I promise.”

“You treat her so well,” Yuta muses, watching how Taeyong’s hand moves across the surface. “You treat everything so well. How do you do it?”

“How?”

“I’ve met a lot of people in a lot of years, Taeyong, and no one knows how to take on everything like you. Even I’m not as good. Just take the Oods, If it were just me they might all still be in servitude. But you freed them. You got them to sing.”

That song still rings pleasantly in Taeyong’s ears. 

“I love that about you, you know.”

Taeyong gapes. 

“What?”

“L-love?”

“Yeah?” Yuta speaks like it’s the easiest thing in the world to share but the way he’s now pushing his hands through his hair tips off to his nervousness. “Yeah,” he says again. “My whole purpose in life is to help others and you seem to be able to do that so effortlessly. I think the universe would be much happier if you were the Doctor over me.”

“That’s not true,” Taeyong’s voice breaks between embarrassment and assuredness. There’s no better than Yuta and Yuta better know it. He punches his arm lightly to punctuate that silent thought. “You’re the best.”

“Only because I have you on my side.”

“You have to stop this,” Taeyong starts to shift away. His cheeks are too red and the heat in them feels like it could rival the fires of the volcano they explored two trips ago. He pats at them with the back of his hand to will it away. He’s starting to feel important. He’s starting to grow scared of that.

Sometimes the weight of servitude holds fast regardless of how long the shackles have been removed.

“Do I? I’m making you blush so much. It feels worth it.”

“Stop,” Taeyong whines, raising a fist to jokingly knock Yuta back again but the other catches his wrists in an instant. Then he tugs until Taeyong’s pulled forward onto his knees, body positioned between Yuta’s now spread legs, hovering almost, chest from chest, and suspended only by Yuta’s hold. The ginger smiles and Taeyong is smitten once more.

“We’ve kissed between these walls before, Taeyong. What has you so flustered?” 

“I-it’s not that! It’s not kissing,” even though that thought shakes him up. “I just don’t think I’m worthy of this, of your words,” or his love. “N-not now, anyway.”

So it’s Yuta’s turn to pause then. That brilliant smile falters and though his grip stays firm and supportive he sits back just a little bit. His face screws up in a way that tells Taeyong he’s processing. Thinking. Calculating, even...maybe.

Taeyong has learned that disturbing Yuta when he’s like this spells trouble. He gets lost down many winding rabbit holes and needs to sort all the pieces together before he can come back again.

And Yuta is learning that no matter the places they go or the timelines they dip into Taeyong is still stuck in the place he left long ago. He hasn’t worked hard enough to help him see the growth that Yuta, himself, has been observing every day.

“Taeyong,” he starts, shifting the other with the hold he has on his wrists until Taeyong’s twisted around and he can wrap his arms around his waist--back pressed to Yuta’s own chest. He rests his chin on Taeyong’s shoulder and tilts his head, eyes glancing up. “What does it take to be worthy?” 

“It’s...you know…” No, Yuta wouldn’t know. Not with the answer swimming around Taeyong’s own muddled mind. “It’s...when you do admirable things. When you’re someone people can look up to. When you’ve accomplished good things.”

“Like freeing an entire alien race? Or rescuing a charitable Pirate King from a government spacecraft? Or--” He feels Taeyong shift and start to protest so he hugs him tighter and shushes him with a hand brushing down his side. “You’ve done so much in so little time that, by your definition, would count as worthy.”

“I...guess… But.”

“But?”

“I’m not you."

Yuta doesn’t miss a beat here. “Good.”

“G-good?”

“Why would I want you to be me when you’re already you?”

“I thought we left the weird wordplay back in Shakespearean England?” Taeyong huffs with enough force that it drives Yuta’s body back a bit and he’s met with laughter.

“Taeyong, you’re so _silly,._ ” Yuta turns then, starting to nuzzle his face into the other male’s neck. “But by that I just mean… you’re truly more wonderful than I think even you understand. I’ve met many people from many places but no one’s been like you. I can’t be like you. That’s part of the reason why I love you.” He straightens his spine slowly, brings a long finger to tap at the sharp line of the other’s jaw, and tilts soft lips to meet his own. Taeyong’s hesitant and joins the kiss rigidly, but only for half a second. He melts into it right after.

“While we’re at the questions...what about love? What’s love to you?”

Taeyong repeats the word under his breath, tapping and trailing his fingers over Yuta’s arm while he thinks. It feels like a heavy question and yet only one answer comes to mind both immediately and when he lets himself settle on it. He licks over his lips before glancing back over. “You?”

Yuta blinks.

“To me...love is you. You’re the one who’s shown me what love is. You’re the one I want to love.” Because he loved the princesses, and he trusted they loved him too, but not at the end. Taeyong still hurts from their avoidance. He’s still pained from the looks in their eyes and the words they refused him because of a fate he couldn’t control. It made him wonder was it ever love at all?

But Yuta? It’s not the thrill he’s injected into Taeyong’s life or the fairytale way he saved him that has Taeyong so convinced in his love. It’s how he’s always there, from when Taeyong needs it, when they’re on a planet Taeyong can’t quite get footing on, running from ray gun blasts, to when he doesn’t need at all, when they’re sitting silently side by side in his chambers or even now, on the floor, at Taeyong’s request to rest. 

Yuta is consistent. Those words from their first meeting hold strong in his heart: 

_There’s not much in life that can stay the same but if we keep things consistent then at least there’s a little bit of comfort no matter where we go._

Yuta is comfort, no matter where they go.

“Is this your confession?” Red hair flops with a tilt of his head and right into Taeyong’s face. 

Typically Taeyong would huff or whine and blow it from his face, but tonight he lifts a hand and parts the little bit in his face like one would a curtain, meeting a bright smile with is own. “Yeah. Maybe it is?” 

Yuta makes a sound giddy with excitement, one that Taeyong isn’t sure he’s even heard before, and hugs him close. Pressing his face into the crook of Taeyong’s neck, he nuzzles for a moment like the action is enough to get his pent up excitement out of his system. It hardly works because when he pulls away again he just looks like he’s buzzing, five hundred times happier. “Then?” He asks.

“Then…” What? Taeyong doesn’t have an answer. He starts blushing like a madman and he has nowhere to run to as Yuta leans in with that brilliant smile of his until their noses are maybe centimeters apart. 

“Then?” He repeats. A hand gently reaches forward, long fingers collecting a few strands of Taeyong’s hair to tuck behind his ear. Yuta’s expression hasn’t wavered.

And Taeyong feels like time is frozen, save for the droning and whirrs of their moving home and the feeling of Yuta’s warm breath dancing over his skin. There’s no reason for it, really. Putting these feelings into words doesn’t change how they’ve existed this whole time. In the same moment of Taeyong shifting, Yuta loosens his hold until he’s fully turned around and settling nicely into his lap. His arms drape gently over Yuta’s shoulders, his hips wiggling to reach the right level of comfort. He wraps his legs around Yuta’s waist. 

Yuta hasn’t stopped pushing his fingers through soft hairs, tucking and untucking them behind a jewel clad ear. His gaze flits from the silver and diamonds to Taeyong’s own eyes that can glisten brighter than his accessories when he’s in the right mood, then to slightly reddened, kiss swollen lips, and back again. 

“I’ve saved a lot of people,” he hums. “But I’ve only ever loved one.” 

With no proper reply coming to mind, Taeyong leans in for another kiss. A slow one that lets them take their time because they’re not in the midst of dimension hopping. They’re resting right now. Taeyong feels Yuta’s hand moving down his back when he arches it, fingers trailing over thin cotton fabric towards the hem of his shirt. He inches his body closer. 

Taeyong has had to grow used to many new things. The feel of clothing that aren’t robes wrapped around his whole body, the weight of the machinery in his ear, translating every alien tongue that’s spoken to him, the heaviness of boots! But beyond that he’s learned how to melt when Yuta touches him the right ways (read: all ways), how to welcome someone else’s body onto and into his own. He’s never been more grateful that that someone is Yuta.

“Taeyong,” the ginger coos, having teased as much of the other as he could given their pressed together position. “Should we move?” He earns a hum of approval in response. Yuta guides Taeyong’s leg to one side, slips his arm underneath his knees, and hoists him up as he rises to his feet. “Bedroom?” Taeyong agrees.

It’s not the first time they’ve indulged in each other’s touch but it is the only time they’ve set the tone of the time with shy professions of love. So now, as Yuta rocks into him slowly, runs his fingers over his chest and down his thighs, as he whispers sweet praises and kisses with sweeter lips Taeyong _feels_ nothing but that love filling him from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. He clutches at Yuta’s back when he moves a little faster and parts his lips in a silent shout with a shared release. 

Yuta gathers him into his arms and they curl up quietly in the mess of blankets and pillows piled in the corner of the side room. “I love you,” he whispers, burying his nose in sweat slicken, raven shaded hairs. 

“You do,” Taeyong agrees, recognizing how weird such a response could be. He just needs to affirm it, needs to let it sink into his ears and over his body. He lets himself feel it as well as he felt Yuta’s body minutes before. Then, with the confidence of those words absorbed well into his skin, he adds, “I love you, too.”

x

Their final hours start bleeding into minutes. Having cried all the tears from his eyes, Taeyong drags his sleeve over them one last time and leaves streaks of kohl across the sheer white fabric. It’s a waste of time, he knows, but Yuta has just been at his side, rubbing his arm, kissing his temple, and letting him do all he needs to do. Piecing himself a bit back together, Taeyong reaches into his pouch and pulls out a bright green pear and the same small, foldable blade he’s carried on him since that first day they met. As he cuts it into slices and hands it to his lover Yuta’s usually cheery expression, the one he’s been using to strengthen Taeyong all this time, falls.

“What?” Taeyong tries to laugh but it sounds wretched in his throat, wrung out and broken like so much of him. “Do you no longer like pears? You’re a sucker for consistencies. I always cut pears for you.”

“No it’s not that...” Yuta huffs and mumbles. He plops a piece of the fruit between his lips to avoid speaking anymore but Taeyong’s ever imploring eyes don’t leave him.

“Then what is it?”

Yuta has only been this distraught enough times to count on one hand--

3.

“It’s just a puzzle,” Yuta huffs, fingers moving a mile a minute across a rather unmoving stone cube.

“Yuta please,” Taeyong shifts uncomfortably at his side. He hasn’t been able to shake the feeling of eyes on them since they landed in this tiny forest, on the outskirts of a tiny town, on a tiny planet. “I know it’s treasure but...I don’t feel too good about being here. Isn’t there any other way to get this?”

The ginger shakes his head and keeps his gaze on the puzzle block he’s solving. They’ve explored a number of clues around the forest, all of which led them to this cave and the puzzle they just can’t pry open. Taeyong, who has been keeping note of every line of decoded text, tries to think of quick solutions so they can be out of there faster but hits deadends at each line of thought. 

“It’s not just treasure,” he corrects, jarring Taeyong out of his thoughts. “5150 needs this resource before their core combusts and all water is drained out of the planet.”

Taeyong knows this but, selfishly it seems, can’t separate that from this anxiousness eating up at him. He lets out a sigh and a soft, “I know that but…” but is quickly cut off by Yuta’s smiling lips capturing his own in a swift kiss.

“Don’t worry,” he reassures. “It’ll be fine. I’ve almost got it.”

With a huff upward Taeyong blows black bangs out of his face and acquiesces in a gentle slump against the cave wall. His arms fold across his chest but it’s not an assertive or defensive stance, just loosely hugging to himself while watching Yuta lock in the last pieces. 

“Ahah!” He exclaims, beams proudly over at Taeyong who smiles sheepishly back, and then twists the circular handle that’s popped out the top of the box. “This should be the last step and then we can finally--”

The ground beneath them groans, splitting apart around the pillar of the puzzle box into a wide, cavernous opening that would immediately swallows Yuta whole if he didn’t grab hold at the base in the last second.

“Taeyong!” He shouts, but the young human is split focus between him and the rustling he hears among the trees outside. He shifts his gaze over, eyes wide, and nearly misses the screwdriver being tossed his way. Nimble fingers scramble to secure his hold over it and he just barely hears, “You’ll find me!” before he’s hiding in the shadows of a large cluster of stalagmites. At least Yuta has confidence in him…

He shifts carefully, ear slotted between the gap of two rocks to catch the murmurings.

“He’ll fetch a nice price on the galactic market,” an effeminate voice says triumphantly. 

“Two hearts right? More to harvest,” another licks his lips.

Taeyong wasn’t primed in the inhabitants of this planet, though the city that they flew over looked similarly to some other modern human ones he’d seen across their travels--all high tech in ways that he may never grow used to. 

What he’s not prepared for, however, are the monstrously large and hairy forms that crawl on six limbs as they pass him and down into the cavern where Yuta lays hopefully unharmed. He clamps his hand over his mouth to suppress a gasp...or maybe a scream...he’s not too sure at this point. No sounds, not even breath escapes him until he’s certain he’s alone again, when all sounds have disappeared deep beneath the ground and the puzzle box has sealed up one again. Taeyong stalks out carefully, investigates though he doesn’t know what he’s looking for, then falls quickly into despair at the base of the pillar. “Damn it,” he shakes his head. “Damn it I knew...I knew we shouldn’t. I should’ve listened to my gut and pulled him away. This trap--” he pauses. It was a trap. It had to be, since they knew details about Yuta that Taeyong had only become privy to in all their inter-dimensional travels. And if they knew about Yuta then… “Oh no.”

Taeyong tears out of the cave as fast as his feet can carry him, through heavy brush and over jagged rocks until a flash of covered blue catches his eye.

“Thank the Gods,” His hands fall onto the lacquered wall, his cheek follows and presses up against the side, and he holds the bright blue box as if she is his only lifeline. She kind of is… But Taeyong can never, and would never, pilot her alone. He’d lever leave Yuta behind. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’ll find him. I just...wish you could help me.” 

A rustling from behind startles Taeyong from his lamenting and he’s quick to cover the box back in as many branches and leaves as possible before ducking deep into the forest for his own safety. 

He stays there for two days, until he starts to grow so hungry and scared he needs to inch his way towards the city center. 

Taeyong picks midnight for his exploration--or rather, what he thinks is midnight judging by the positioning of the stars above him--stalking out from the woods, past the cave he hopes Yuta is still beneath, and towards the town. If anyone here look like him he’s unaware. He’s not sure if there’s a community he can blend in with or even if there’s food he can consume but he knows he needs to try. More than that...hiding won’t get him closer to finding Yuta, no matter how many plans he draws out. He needs the confidence. Taeyong remembers all the puzzles. His mind has a log of all the passwords they unearthed. He knows he can get into the cave he just is unaware of how to make it out and with what feels like guards taking shift inside he can’t take the hands on chance. 

He prays the city will give him insight, even if it’s just one person who looks like him and is willing to speak. But first...his stomach rumbles so loudly it threatens to give him away. He needs to eat.

On the outskirts of the town he finds what he assumes to be a farmhouse. It sits atop acres of land walled by sporadic pieces of wood that remind Taeyong of a fence. And at an end, what he hopes is a safe enough distance from the shadow of a building, are posts strung with a line that is drying out meat. Whatever meat it is Taeyong doesn’t know but his stomach doesn’t seem to care. Slow steps carry him towards it before he pushes on his toes to fish one off. He’s so close-- the edge is scraping his fingertips-- it’ll just take a little more until--

“Who’s there?!”

Taeyong, stupid and stranded out here, yelps and ducks down as if folding into himself will save him from the onlooker. In as much time as it takes from him to straighten and try to take a step back, someone with dark colored fur and the same amount of limbs as the creatures he watched trap Yuta, scuttles up to him. It blinks at him with bright blue and yellow eyes, surprising Taeyong that there are only two, one of each color. Actually, despite the hair and the extra arms dictating the way it moves, the creature isn’t so unlike him The rest of it is human-like in build just much, much larger than he and much furrier. 

“Please,” He gapes, trembles, and tries so desperately not to cry. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any harm I just...I…”

“Shh!” A finger the size of Taeyong’s own hand presses to his lips. “You’ll get caught like this. Here. Come,” It turns and starts back not towards the large looming ‘farmhouse’ but to a small shed at its right. Taeyong’s legs feel like jelly and he knows that, as he pushes himself to his feet and tries to follow, that he could very well be walking into his own death. He grips the screwdriver tight. Yuta’s used it to get out of many predicaments before, maybe Taeyong can save himself now. The closer they get the tighter his hold becomes and by the time he’s only a dozen steps from the building he has it poised in defense should he need it; at the ready if even the slightest movement is made. 

_I should’ve known Taeyong. Someone as kind hearted as you can always see the good in everyone._

Ah… When Taeyong thinks about those words he lowers the screwdriver back at his side and follows now with softer steps. Right… this is who he is. He trusts the good in people. Without Yuta as his strength at his side, he hopes he can still keep that up on both of their behalfs.

The creature beckons him inside, into a space filled with nothing more than haystacks and rudimentary materials, some possibly for cooking and others that look for the farm. It leaves again quickly after and Taeyong is left at the mercy of if it’s going for friends or food. To his fortune, it returns with a small array of dough-seeming items and fruits.

“You won’t want the meat,” it says with what seems like a grimace. “Trust me.”

“I, uh… I will.” He prays for that choice and then takes one of the doughed items and pulls it apart in his hands. It seems familiar enough. It comes apart easily and the texture seems right as bread. Taeyong doesn’t identify the black dots speckled throughout and then decides not to think about it much longer than a minute. Beggars can’t be choosers. Taeyong takes a bite.

It’s crunchier than anticipated--especially the black bits--but not bad tasting by any means. Better than that, Taeyong doesn’t feel off once he’s finished the whole thing and starts for a second.

“Thank you,” he says softly, if not shyly, when he peers back to the creature that’s helped him.

“You’re not from around here,” is both question and statement and Taeyong can only nod in reply. “If anyone else saw you, you’d be mincemeat in no time. Or worse.”

“What can be worse than that?” Taeyong asks against his better judgment.

“Servitude. At least the first way they won’t prolong your painful existence.”

“...Oh.” Taeyong glances nervously down to the loaf he’s now halfway through. He’s being pretty stupid isn’t he? It doesn’t matter how many centuries or galaxies they’ve jumped between, he still seems to be the same sheltered palace boy he was when Yuta saved him.

“I’m not going to do anything to you,” The creature assures quickly. “I don’t like any of that. I like humans. My best friend was a human.” Was, a key work that Taeyong clocks. “But I’m telling you you can’t stay here. They’ll smell you out soon.”

“I can’t go. I can’t go until I find him.”

“Him?”

“Yu--” That name won’t mean anything alone. “The...The man with two hearts. He’s being held somewhere here and I can’t leave without him.”

“Two hearts…” Is repeated a few times over before the creature’s eyes go wide. “Oh. Oh no. No no you can’t wait, you have to go.”

“I’m not leaving without him.” 

The creatures face grows something akin to solemn and it shakes its head. “It’s not possible. You won’t get him back.”

And maybe earlier those words would’ve struck Taeyong in all the wrong ways and rendered him useless. Maybe hearing that would’ve sent him into turmoil--Yuta, his savior, taken almost literally from under his nose. But Yuta has given Taeyong so much more than freedom. Yuta has instilled belief in Taeyong that he never would’ve thought to find before. There’s a sense of strength now. If Yuta could save him, then Taeyong can return the favor. So he looks at the other with keen determination in his eyes when he says, “Yes I will. And if I could ask for your help it would mean the world.”

“Why would I help?”

“You’re helping me now,” Whether it’s a good or bad chord that Taeyong’s comment strikes he isn’t sure but the creature comes to a pause. He takes that silence as leverage and presses on, “And if you do then I’ll give you this,” his fingers run over his hair as if putting it behind his ears, dancing over the silver clip that keeps the strands in place. He has been catching each glance of the creatures’ eyes over to it, glistening almost as brightly as the clip itself. It’s one of the few trinkets he’s kept from his homeland but no object is worth the same as Yuta. And he does still have his earrings and rings to account for too--they just weren’t direct gifts from the princesses. 

“...You will?”

Taeyong nods.

If the creature had brows Taeyong feels that they’d be furrowed now. His stomach twists in anticipation and anxiety as he tells himself that even if he doesn’t receive help it doesn’t mean he can’t help Yuta. It’ll just be harder. But Taeyong can take harder. He can handle anything, just like he’s seen Yuta do in the past. He’s found his confidence. He--

“...Do you think it’ll look good on me?”

Taeyong, stunned, meets the question first with silence but then composes himself enough to smile and nod. “I absolutely do.”

It can’t say for sure but the creature feels confident Yuta hasn’t been moved from the cave. “There isn’t much space in the town to hold someone like him for very long. The caves are usually untouched, they think he’ll be undisturbed there. But it’s a network of canals so there’s no guarantee he’s where you might think he is.” And no certainty that Taeyong will be able to find him in that labyrinth. 

Their plan is for Taeyong to navigate the caves while Xuxi, they’ve just exchanged names, acts as shift guard. 

“It shouldn’t be hard,” Xuxi insists, and to Taeyong’s surprise it manages to convince its counterpart of a shift change in as long as it took Taeyong to find a suitable hiding spot.

Holding his breath, Taeyong slips back into the familiar space of the cave and seeks out the puzzle box; words of encouragement from Xuxi lingering pleasantly in his ears. It took Yuta quite some time to figure it out but truthfully Taeyong had the answer a minute after they found it; his reservations just kept him from sharing his answers (and with justifiable reason). But now his nimble fingers twist and lock each piece into place until it’s glowing in his hands and retreats back to its home. Taeyong swallows as the ground shakes beneath him and clutches tight to the podium. His arms shake with exertion, barely hoisting his weight as he lowers himself further and further to the floor. They give out when he’s two and a half feet from the bottom. 

He hits the ground hard enough that dust puffs up around him and in his attempt to catch his breath his lungs fill with the gritty substance. He turns, rolling to his side, and coughs hard (but as softly as possible) into the crook of his arm until it feels like some of it, as much as can be anyway, is out of his system.

Hoisting himself back onto his feet, Taeyong takes the screwdriver out of the pocket on the inside of his clothes and lets it illuminate the foot in front of him in a bright blue light. “Can you sense him?” he wonders, walking in slow circles to see if anything sets it off. No luck, unfortunately, but there’s only one path to start so Taeyong takes off down it until he reaches his first fork in the road. His mind tells him to go right, his gut says left, but as he’s about to turn some characters scrawled into the rocky wall catch his attention.

He steps up slowly, lowering the screwdriver and bending at the knees.He recognizes these, seeing them marked on the first trees they saw when they stepped out onto this planet’s soil-- the tree that only had leaves blooming on the right side. Taeyong breaths out a soft, “Oh,” and heads down that way. 

For a while, he can’t say for certain he’s made the right choice or that the puzzles from the surface level are coordinated with what he’s seeing down here; not until he reaches another wall with another set of markings. It’s a dead end. But before Taeyong thinks about turning back he reads the puzzle, does the math, and finds the stalagmite that corresponds with the number in his head. Pushing it gently, he all but jumps when the wall opens with a creak. Dark eyes light up. He’s got this.

Light steps carry him between segments of floor laid out in a pattern he remembers from the puzzle box itself, the rest crumbling away into a nothingness that leads to the center of this world. Truthfully it frightens him, but when he squints he can see him-- Yuta, in chains just at the other end. 

He hurries, readies the screwdriver to magic (Taeyong’s words, no matter how many times Yuta explains it to him he can’t think of anything other than magic; his magic man) open the other’s shackles, and welcomes him when he drops into his arms.

“T-Taeyong?” Disbelief washes over his face. “You- you...how? I--...I’ll never leave you,” Yuta says so frantically that Taeyong immediately latches his hands onto the nearest part he can think of--in this case his jaw, swiping his thumbs over the apples of his cheeks--in an effort to ground him.

“It’s okay,” He says probably a few too many times over. It’s kind of a weird space to be in...Taeyong, who saved Yuta, yet Yuta speaks as though he left Taeyong in trouble. Maybe he did, but that’s not what the raven haired male is thinking about. He’s just grateful. They’re safe--almost. They’re nearly out of this mess. But it’s when Yuta tugs him tightly to his chest and says it again, “I’ll never leave you” in a myriad of languages, that he realizes it’s not for him. Yuta needs this for himself. He needs to promise that he’ll never leave because if he doesn’t, how can he be strength for Taeyong? Yuta’s such a hero, he doesn’t have the capacity to think about his own victimhood. 

So Taeyong returns the favor and gathers Yuta into his arms. Nodding, he lets Yuta course through his thoughts and chant those words a few more times before adding on his own: “Never again.”

“Let’s go, we don’t have much ti--” There’s something in the distance; a sound that’s heavy like many limbs all scrambling to the same place. Yuta clutches Taeyong tighter. 

“C’mon.”

He moves at a lightning quick pace, so fast that Taeyong can hardly keep up. They run back through the checkpoints Taeyong has opened up, only turning back to reset them shut again with the force of the screwdriver; its whizzing sound providing a sense of comfort and familiarity for Taeyong in contrast to how fast his heart pounds in his chest. But Yuta’s here now, so everything will be okay, he thinks.

Or until they reach the hole that started it all. A huff leaves through Yuta’s nose. Eyes dart between where they are and where they need to be, assessing if any amount of running or jumping will do the trick. 

Taeyong thinks on it too, shaking his anxiety out through the flexing of his fingers. Jumping and climbing aren’t his strong suits… but he does have one thing in his back pocket-- or standing outside. Same difference.

“Xuxi!” He calls.

“Xuxi?” Yuta questions. He grows tense as the light at the opening starts to vanish, eaten by the shadow of a figure not unlike the ones that captured him. He steps back but Taeyong is quick to catch his wrist and lower the screwdriver all in one go. 

With one hand gripping the edge and the others outstretched, Xuxi reaches to them. 

“Can you lift us both?” Taeyong asks. He’s met with a grin.

“I can try.”

“Yuta first,” Taeyong all but shoves his ginger lover into the arms of his newfound friend. Yuta, baffled, just stays wide eyes and mouth open as he’s handed off between big, furry arms and doesn’t recover himself until Taeyong is vaulted into the other free hand and they’re hoisted back to the box that started it all. 

They’re almost home. When Xuxi shifts to set them down, only the hallway of the cave and the stretch of forest where the Tardis is hidden stands between them and absolute freedom. Only cave and forest and then...a mob of creatures barring their path. Xuxi, in shock, drops them to take a step back and then, to Taeyong’s shock, moves forward. He fills the space between them and their assailants. 

“You’ll have to run,” He whispers sharply. “I’ll hold them off.” 

“You can’t,” Panic seeps into Taeyong’s voice like water to a sponge. “They’ll hurt you.” 

“Not as much as they’ll hurt the two of you,” he’s already cracking his many knuckles. 

So Taeyong looks to Yuta instead. “We have to help him. Please, we have to this isn’t his fault it’s--”

Yuta grabs Taeyong’s hands to steady him, though he’s still shaking some himself. “We’ll help him, don’t worry.”

But how? Taeyong can only think to worry. There are too many bodies blocking the cave entrance and there’s only one Xuxi and two of them to withstand it. As Xuxi moves forward Yuta starts to tug Taeyong back. It seems counterproductive so he struggles against the pull. Yuta, when filled with intent, however, is too strong for him and brings them both behind the ill-fated puzzle box. “Get ready,” he warns, readying the screwdriver in front of them both. “Hold onto me, it might get loud.”

“Loud?”

A _boom_ explodes from the screwdriver’s bright blue end and shoots them both back against the cave wall. The box, whizzing over Xuxi’s shoulder and prompting him to duck, shatters at the edge of the cave’s mouth, splintering into hundreds of tiny shards that fly erratically into the mob.

“Bullseye,” Yuta grins that grin that Taeyong fell in love with and tugs him in a tight, triumphant hug. “Let’s go!”

Their fingers link before they set off. Taeyong waves Xuxi with them and he uses his large form to barrel through the still struggling cluster of creatures and shield them as they flee. Reaching a fork in the road--one path towards the Tardis, the other to the farm--Taeyong stops Yuta’s footsteps at a call from behind. 

“I think you can make it. You should go,” Xuxi urges, glancing over his shoulder. “I’ll hold them off.”

“No, Xuxi go home. You can make it too. You should.”

“But if they turn and catch you--”

“We’ve got it,” Taeyong presses tight to Yuta’s side, palm resting on his chest. “Trust us. There’s nothing we can’t do when we’re together.” And Yuta nods to reaffirm it.

“Okay. Good luck, stay safe and don’t come back okay?!”

Taeyong laughs as they set down their separate ways and readies himself for one final sprint towards home when it hits him. “Wait!”

Yuta freezes. Taeyong is no longer at his side, already retracing fresh footsteps after their new friend. “Xuxi! Xuxi!”

“Taeyong?”

“Taeyong!”

Two voices melt together as one turns and the other chases after him. Large hands quickly wrap around his small form, Taeyong’s hands falling on furry shoulders to first hoist him up to eye level. Then, feeling secure in its hold, he starts to fidget with the pin in his hair. “I promised. I always try to keep my promises,” he says breathlessly, yanking the few loose strands of black that remained stuck on the curve of his silver clip. Once clean, he brushes back a section of brown mane and clips it in.

“Ah,” he beams. “I was right. It looks great.” 

What seems like a smile spreads over Xuxi’s features and he touches the smooth silver gently after setting Taeyong back onto the ground and into a frantic Yuta’s quick hands. The ginger starts to sprint them away again. 

It’s too dangerous to share words now, but a silent wave conveys more than enough before they’re out of each other’s sight.

x

_It’s the thought of leaving you,_ Yuta feels in his distress. It’s what made that day to terrifying. It’s what ruins him now.

But when Yuta looks over he sees something else in Taeyong’s eyes-- all the guilt for a fate he thinks he’s caused. It makes his own brows pinch, a sigh leaving out his nostrils, and he shakes his head out for a moment. “Taeyong, I know that...your beliefs from your homeland, and your thoughts that, because of back then, we have brought this on now. Maybe it is because of us. Maybe it’s not. I’ve never been one to find much merit in things like Gods,” though he was only a hop, skip, and a jump from being god-like himself. “But I want you to know that I saved you because I’d loved you already. In that moment. And even knowing we would end up in this doomed present...I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Or double.”

“...Would you?” Taeyong’s eyes well up in a myriad of emotions Yuta can’t quite read. “But...you’re a hero. You’re the universe’s hero.” 

“Before any of that...I’m yours. And I would rather be that any day.”

He watches Taeyong blink away, gaze down on their linked fingers while his other hand plays with the fray of his jacket. “We’ve spent so much time together and yet…there are still so many things you do that surprise me.” 

Yuta tilts his head and asks, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” They lock pretty, dark eyes again. “It makes me wish we had longer. Just so I could learn even more about you.” But then again, if the time they’d shared already was any indication, would more millennia fix that? Yuta said he was the selfish one but Taeyong, too, felt that way. No amount of time would ever be enough; and he had been given so much of it already. 

“I don’t want to say goodbye to you,” Yuta says after a stretch of silence. It’s an admittance to himself, a resignation, they’re not going to get out of this. 

Taeyong lets out a long, slow sigh. For a second he looks away but then he remembers that there’s only so many more moments left to take Yuta in and he can’t let those go to waste. He tries to play back the best memories; count them down from five to one as a final send off to himself but....there’s only one image in his mind: the one he has to look at right here, right now. Meeting those warm eyes with his own Taeyong replies, “I don’t want to say goodbye to you, either.”

They hold onto each other, Yuta’s arms tugging Taeyong into his lap, fingers lacing. Taeyong rests against the comfortable warmth of Yuta’s chest, lets his head fall back against his collar, looks at that jaw he’s had so much fun marking up and into eyes that held him captive from the day that they met. Yuta, in turn, hugs Taeyong like he’s the softest teddy bear in the world with just hints of desperately never wanting to let go.

“You don’t have to,” Taeyong says softly, chuckling under his breath because he knows exactly what Yuta is thinking and it catches the ginger off guard every time he vocalizes it. “We don’t have to. I’ll never leave you,” they pause, letting their minds drift together to the last time those words were spoken between them. 

He continues, “We’ll meet again...just close your eyes.” 

So Yuta does just that, welcoming darkness on his own terms while the heat from the sun starts to lick at the soles of their shoes. He feels the warm press of lips against his cheek, the squeeze of their hands, and then nothing at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Who let me write Doctor Who au???
> 
> Thank you prompter for giving me the freedom to experiment and to NCT Write Write for encouraging me to test my creative limits!
> 
> Let's be friends! Find me on twitter @/ChibiKadaj or CC @/ChibixKadaj <3


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